


A Fool in Love

by LittlebutFiery



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Prompt Fill, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: For their first Valentine's Day together, Jean is determined to do something special for Riza. It doesn't quite work out how he intended.





	A Fool in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pigeonfluff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonfluff/gifts).



> The ever-lovely pigeonfluff sent me this prompt on tumblr: "You're an idiot, but you're my idiot" to go with Havocai, and this was the result! Please enjoy this absolutely tooth-rotting fluff.

It wasn’t that Jean Havoc was nervous.

It definitely wasn’t that Jean Havoc was _desperate_.

But he _was_ a little bit…stressed.

Valentine’s Day was in two days, and he had found absolutely nothing suitable for a gift.

Granted, that was par for the course for him. In the past, he’d kind of made shit up as he went, scrambling at the last second to find a halfway-passable gift. It usually worked well enough.

But this year was different. He was in a new-ish relationship, an actual, steady, _stable_ relationship, with a girl so far out of his league he still woke up sometimes thinking it was all a dream. 5 am trips to the drugstore for whatever roses they had left wouldn’t cut it this time.

He would _not_ half-ass _anything_ for Riza Hawkeye.

But what the hell did she want?

She was a practical, pragmatic woman; materialism was not her thing. Most of Jean’s past flings were content with flowers, chocolates, jewelry, maybe a bottle of wine.

But Riza?

Yeah, that wouldn’t work.

He’d toyed with the idea of buying her a new pistol, one of the fancy new ones at the gun shop near his apartment, with all the bells and whistles and an ivory-plated handle. But if there was one thing he knew aside from women, it was guns. He’d tried that gun and cringed at its awful kickback. She’d hate the damn thing.

Then he’d contemplated getting her a new pair of earrings to replace the tarnished studs she wore every day. It was the only kind of jewelry she ever wore, so that might work, right? But he remembered her telling him once how Mustang got them for her when he studied with her father; how it was the first gift she’d ever been given. Jean couldn’t even be jealous of her attachment to them, and knew better than to try to replace them.

His last plan – he really should’ve thought past Option C, but he didn’t, like a moron – was lingerie, but that just…didn’t seem to cut it. Jean knew Riza preferred practical things over beautiful things (not that she wasn’t beautiful), and she would honestly probably hate them. Besides, they’d only recently felt comfortable enough in their relationship to even start having sex. It would be a gift about him, not her, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

So what the fuck was he supposed to do?

He’d asked the guys, and their ideas had been mind-numbingly unhelpful.

Fuery had suggested he just take her out for a particularly nice date, that she wouldn’t even want a gift. What a cute, naïve kid. Not getting a lady a gift for Valentine’s Day was relational suicide. Someday, he’d learn.

Falman had actually offered something useful, sort of, in recommending he buy her a book. Riza did love to read – sometimes their dates consisted of nothing more than putting a record on the phonograph, her curled up against his chest, reading, while he was content to run his fingers through her hair or massage her back. But when pressed as to _what_ kind of book she might like, Falman faltered, and Jean knew if he suddenly expressed an overzealous interest in Riza’s reading habits, she’d get suspicious.

Breda had just laughed when Jean asked him. He was still baffled that Riza agreed to date Jean in the first place, and Jean had the sneaking suspicion that he had bet money hidden away _somewhere_ in case it failed catastrophically.

In desperation, he’d asked Mustang. The two were close, almost _too_ close, practically able to read each other’s damn minds. If _anyone_ would know what Riza would want, it would be him, right?

Wrong.

Mustang rattled off an impressive list of suggestions, all of which sounded perfectly suited to someone other than Riza. Fancy clothes, fancy wine, fancy jewelry…Riza would hate all of it. How the _hell_ did Mustang know Riza so well, but at the same time so poorly?

Besides. Mustang seemed to have forgotten that as a second lieutenant, Jean got paid peanuts compared to him. The jewelry Mustang had suggested cost more than a month’s pay for Jean, convincing him that Mustang truly had no idea what the fuck things cost for normal people. Shit, he probably made enough money to _own_ Jean.

He knew he couldn’t ask Rebecca, though he desperately wanted to. He’d entrust a secret to chatty little Elicia Hughes before he’d entrust one to Rebecca – she was a great friend, but couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. She’d spill the beans to Riza and ruin the surprise, and Jean wasn’t going to let _anything_ ruin his first Valentine’s Day with her.

Jean decided to take a walk down to the atrium of Central Command – maybe one of the always-cheerful desk sergeants would have some suggestions. It was worth a shot, at least.

He made a half-assed excuse to duck out of the office, something about getting paperwork from the records room, which Mustang accepted without complaint, as he was _also_ trying to avoid his work.

He ambled down the hall, in no particular hurry to get there or back, mind so wrapped up in _desperately_ thinking of what to get that he almost missed a conversation drifting out of the kitchenette where Riza always made her tea.

“…I really hope Adam got me the necklace I wanted for Valentine’s Day,” a female officer – Katie, Jean thought her name was – was saying. “What do you want Lieutenant Havoc to get you, Hawkeye?”

“I really don’t want anything,” Riza replied.

Jean froze, lurking just outside the door, thanking whatever celestial powers that existed for his luck. He’d get what Riza wanted straight from Riza herself!

“Oh, come on,” Katie scowled. “Everybody wants _something_. Even if it’s just a little thing.”

Riza sighed. “Well, if I had to pick _something_ , it would probably be some bath things,” the whistling of a teapot drowned out her next few words, before the noise ceased and Riza went on, “…but they’re quite expensive.”

Jean grinned, pumping his fist in the air and trying not to let out a whoop of triumph. Fuck yeah! That was something he could definitely do. Though he hadn’t found a gift yet, he’d been saving up for weeks. He’d cut down a few packs a week and skipped breakfast more often than not, leaving him a pretty penny to spend on Riza.

Granted, he’d never known her to be partial to baths, or particularly interested in things like fancy soaps or bubble baths, but hey, if it was what she wanted, that’s what she was going to get.

This was gonna be great. He just knew it.

 

Two days later, and the workday could not possibly go by any slower. Jean had woken up practically at dawn, too excited for his evening with Riza to sleep in any later. He’d picked out an outfit and spent almost an hour ironing every conceivable wrinkle out of it – the first time he’d even looked at his iron in…a long time – before hanging it up, shining his shoes, and picking out the perfect tie to match.

Damn, he was going to look good. Only the best for his Riza.

But work was slow, with many officers taking the day off or conveniently calling in sick, leaving few distractions to take Jean’s mind off the hours between now and then. He finished his paperwork by lunch, shot the breeze with the guys for a while, ran down to the corner store to buy a biscuit for Hayate for when he saw the pup tonight, and _still_ had several hours to spare.

It didn’t help that he swore off smoking after lunch. He knew Riza didn’t mind his trademark vice, but with the few extra cenz he had he’d bought some nice cologne, and he wanted to smell like that on their date, rather than an ashtray. So he was jittery from nerves, excitement, and a nicotine withdrawal that would have knocked a less determined man on his ass. He could barely sit still.

If any of the rest of the team noticed how many packs of gum he went through, trying to adjust to not having a cigarette in his mouth, they kindly didn’t say anything.

Finally, mercifully, Mustang turned them loose an hour early, probably eager to get ready for a date of his own. Jean walked Riza home, dropped by the store to pick her up the roses he’d ordered, and headed home to get himself cleaned up.

They’d settled on 6 to meet at her apartment before going out to dinner, so Jean stood on her doorstep at 5:45, practically shaking with excitement. Was he too early? Would she still be getting ready? No, this was Riza, after all; she was almost scarily punctual. She would certainly be ready.

He knocked timidly, and then his heart stopped. Oh, fuck, he hadn’t gotten her a card. Shit, should he have? He thought they were kind of a waste of money – he could just _tell_ her how he felt – but what if she didn’t? What if she wanted one, and he didn’t have one? He could feel his pulse racing, his breathing grow shallow…

And then the door swung open, and Riza was smiling at him, and everything seemed like it was going to be okay.

“You’re early,” Riza smiled. “I’m impressed.”

“You gotta give a guy a little credit,” Jean half-whined, exaggerating a pout. Riza laughed, opening the door wider so Jean could come in.

He set her present and flowers on the entryway table, bending down to pet Hayate as the pup came running to greet him. Jean laughed, scratching Hayate’s ears and offering him the biscuit he’d bought earlier. Riza smiled at them, chuckling, “I love seeing my boys getting along.”

His hands free, Jean pulled Riza into a hug, pressing gentle kisses up her jawline. He murmured, “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jean,” Riza smiled back, kissing him.

He let her go, taking the time to admire her outfit. She was in a blue dress – almost the same shade as his shirt, actually – modest but _juuuust_ clingy enough to emphasize her beautiful curves. She’d even taken the time to put on just a touch of makeup, emphasizing her stunning eyes and gorgeous lips.

Fuck, he was a lucky man.

“God, Ri, you’re a knockout,” Jean breathed, as though this wasn’t a revelation he hadn’t had countless times before.

Riza laughed and blushed, trying to wave him off. She managed, “You clean up nice yourself.”

Jean chuckled. He’d spent forever preening like a narcissist in his mirror after work, shaving away his five o’ clock shadow and ensuring his hair was _artfully_ messy and not just…his usual messy. It was nice to know Riza appreciated the effort.

Speaking of things she’d appreciate…

He picked up the box and flowers he’d set down on her side table, all but thrusting them at her. “Here! I got you something. I hope you like it.”

Riza smiled. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Of course I did,” Jean insisted.

“We’ve only been together a few months, and our dinner is at a nice restaurant…I feel bad that you’re spending so much money on me. I should’ve at least gotten you something,” Riza frowned.

Jean stared at her a moment, dumbfounded, before laughing nervously, “Ri, you’re not _supposed_ to get me something. Besides, I have you, I don’t know what else I could want. If it makes you feel better…I forgot to get you a card?”

This brought a smile back to Riza’s face. “I think they’re a waste of money, anyway. That’s what stationery or a nice dinner is for.”

Jean stood there, grinning like a dumbass, wondering again how he found a woman so perfect, so in-tune with him. Finally he managed, “Um…well, we’ve still got a lot of time before dinner, so…do you want to open it?”

She nodded, taking the package and flowers from his hands and walking into her kitchen, Jean and Hayate right at her heels. Riza set the flowers and box down on the table before carefully pulling the wrapping paper off. Jean cried internally, as it had taken him an hour and three phone calls to his mother to get the damn thing looking presentable, even though he _knew_ the entire goal was to tear it apart.

He held his breath as Riza opened it, waiting for any indication of delight to spread across her face, _anything_ to indicate he hadn’t fucked this up.

There was a long, painful silence, before Riza said, “Thank you, Jean. You really didn’t need to.”

Pleading for a merciful god to strike him dead on the spot, Jean sighed weakly, “…you hate it.”

“No!” Riza insisted, more forceful than necessary. Her smile looked a little too wide as she said, “No, really, I love it. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to lie to me,” Jean mumbled, seriously debating the pros and cons of bolting out of the apartment and hiding from the world for a few days. “I…fucked up. Again.”

This drew a frown, a real frown, from Riza. “Jean, stop. You know I don’t think that. You’ve been a wonderful partner for as long as we’ve been together, and one of my closest friends long before that.”

“I…just thought,” Jean stammered, avoiding her eyes. “I heard you talking to Katie the other day when I walked past the break room, a-and you said something about wanting some bath stuff, so…”

Riza made an odd huffing sound, concerning him for a moment, before he looked up and realized she was laughing. He winced, very much wishing he could just curl up and disappear. Fuck, now he looked thoughtless _and_ like a fucking moron.

“I’m sorry,” Riza giggled. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Then what’s so funny?” Jean asked, trying not to sound too petulant.

“You must not have heard everything I said,” Riza replied, a genuine smile now spread across her face. “I said I wanted some bath things _for_ _Hayate_.”

“What?” Jean asked dumbly.

“He keeps getting into things when we go on walks, and I’m tired of taking him to the groomers. I need to get some things so I can clean him at home,” Riza explained. “Brushes, pet-safe soap, some cheap towels…”

“Oh,” Jean managed.

“I know it’s not really a romantic thing, but you know me…” Riza shrugged almost sheepishly.

“I should’ve known,” Jean groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I _knew_ something felt funny about it. You don’t even like baths! Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“Maybe, but you’re _my_ idiot,” Riza smiled. She pulled his hands away from his face, leaning up to kiss him again.

Jean felt some of the humiliation and anxiety lift off of him as he managed to give Riza a dopey smile in return. Man, he loved being hers. He could get used to being called that.

She walked back over to the table, pulling some of the things out of the box and examining them curiously. Jean said, “You don’t have to keep them. I can take them back tomorrow, get some stuff for Hayate instead…”

“No, it’s okay,” Riza shook her head, humming as she looked at one of the bottles. She picked up another one, looked back and forth between them, before setting one back down and starting to walk away.

It took her a moment to realize Jean wasn’t following her. “Well?”

“What?” Jean asked.

“Our reservations aren’t for another hour,” Riza replied. “And I’d particularly like to try out this jasmine bubble bath.”

“Right,” Jean said. Well, at least she was going to get use out of it. That was a plus. She looked great, but if she wanted another bath, that was fine. He could just play with Hayate while he waited.

“…aren’t you going to join me?”

Jean stood there, staring like a dumbass, for a lot longer than he cared to admit. Finally he managed an intelligent, “Oh.”

Riza turned and walked away again, an exaggerated swing to her hips as she sashayed towards her bathroom. Jean grinned, toeing off his shoes and nearly tripping over himself as he followed.

He might be an idiot, but he was Riza’s idiot, and damn, if that didn’t make him a lucky guy.

**Author's Note:**

> Jasmine is supposed to be an aphrodisiac, something Jean did not realize when buying the stuff, but something Riza picked up on almost immediately.


End file.
